


When Time Turns

by Mahawna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Pansy Parkinson, Death Eater Pansy, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), So Much Snark, Time Travel, Voldemort won, so many gryffindors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahawna/pseuds/Mahawna
Summary: Pansy has had enough. She knows Voldemort was never supposed to win, and yet that's exactly what he did. Taking her life into her own hands she needs to find the one witch who always has a plan; Hermione Granger. She didn't realize that plan involved a time turner,completely changing the timeline, a bunch of Gryffindors, and unruly Marauders.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Gideon Prewett, James Potter/Lily Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Sirius Black
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

She had never been the most athletic of people. She was pretty sure she had  _ never _ run flat out like this for even a short period of time before. The stitch in her side grew with each step she took, her breath becoming short and ragged. As much as she wanted to stop and catch her breath, she knew her time was limited. She needed to get there first. If anyone else beat her there, she would be completely and properly screwed. 

She was pounding past the entrance to an alleyway when she heard it. A clink of glass and a sharp intake of breath. Someone was hiding here, and she had a very good idea of who. Drawing her wand she cautiously entered the alley. 

It was much dimmer in the small space between the buildings. The sun was slowly disappearing, casting long, dark shadows. She stood at the entrance looking around as she waited for her eyes to adjust properly to the lack of light. She hadn't survived this long just to make a stupid mistake like that. The person hiding in the alley was no slouch with a wand. She needed to bring her a-game in order to safely deal with this particular person. 

Once her eyes had adjusted properly, she slowly moved forward. She kept her wand extended slightly, but not in a way that could be perceived as threatening. She was sure she'd still need to defend herself before she had a chance to convince the person she wasn't actually there to catch or kill them.

“I know it’s you. Look, I just want to talk alright. I'm not here to hurt you.” She tried to sound as reassuring as she could, but as she had never had a polite conversation with the person hiding behind the rubbish, it was proving slightly more difficult than she had originally thought it would be. Old habits die hard sometimes. 

“Just come out. I promise, all I want to do is talk. It's just you and me here.” She held her breath, silently begging the runner would come out sooner than later. Her pride was taking a serious hit here, and she was starting to wonder if this would be worth it in the end. She waited quietly, hoping for a response. None came.

“You realize you don't have many options right now don't you? You can try running some more, but we both know you won't make it very far, especially with how much blood I'm sure you're losing. Not like listening to what I have to say could possibly be any worse than bleeding out in the rubbish.” She huffed. Couldn't the stupid girl just come out and listen? There was no way she could keep running with how much blood she was losing. She had seen the cutting hex McNair had hit her with. He had sliced her open from her right shoulder across her back, ending at her left hip. She had to be in a lot of pain too, it had looked pretty deep from where Pansy had been standing. 

She huffed again. They really didn't have time for Granger to think it over. She'd either bleed to death first, or be caught by another Death Eater at this rate, and if somebody else came along Pansy would have no choice but to take Granger in and that would completely destroy any hope of escape from this hell. 

“Ugh, Granger, I swear on my Magic as a witch, I am not here to hurt you or turn you in, now will you get your arse out here and talk to me?” She had never been a patient person to begin with. The threat of death completely obliterated what little she had. 

“I can't stand back up. You're going to have to help me,” came a quiet voice, so quiet she almost didn't hear it. Pansy let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She moved forward cautiously, making sure she made enough noise so as not to startle the injured witch. Hurt or not, she had always been a force to be reckoned with. She held her hands up, palms out to show she meant no harm as she walked around the heap. Pansy couldn't stop the sharp intake at the sight before her.

Granger’s left shoulder was propped against a rubbish bin, probably to keep the rest of her back from coming into contact with anything. Even though she probably hadn't been sitting there long, there was already a decent sized pool of blood around her. Everything about her seemed to sag with exhaustion. She was covered in a thick layer of grime, Pansy wasn't even sure what color her shirt had originally been. Hearing Granger's breath hitch brought Pansy back from her perusal. 

She reached into a small pouch she always carried with her and extracted two potions vials. She slowly moved closer to Granger until she could kneel in front of her. 

“Here, you need to take these. I can heal most of the damage, but it'll take too long for us to keep sitting here. This is a blood replenishing, and pain potion. Just take them so we can get out of here before somebody else finds us.” Her words came out harsher than she had meant to, but she was in a hurry and terrified somebody would discover them. 

Granger just stared at her, not taking the potions. “Just take the potions, I already swore on my Magic I'm not here to hurt you, that generally includes poisoning.” She couldn't really blame her for being cautious, but they really didn't have the time for it right now. 

“Fine, here.” She opened the first vial and held it to Grangers lips. To Pansy’s surprise she actually opened her mouth to allow the potion to be poured in. She repeated the action with the second vial. She leaned back on her heels, noting that Granger's eyes didn't look quite as glazed anymore and there was a little bit more color in her cheeks. Of course, that wouldn't last long if they just sat there and she continued to bleed. 

“On your feet, we need to go.” She grabbed hold of Granger’s arm and helped her up. The bleeding witch leaned on her heavily, but didn't so much as flinch at the contact. She must have been in a lot of pain still if she'd so willingly let a known Death Eater touch her. Just as she prepared to apparate then away, she paused. Pansy turned her attention to the mouth of the alley, eyes and ears alert. She was sure she had heard someone curse. She waited a minute or two before she was satisfied she must have been mistaken. Nobody would have just sat there and waited when they made such an easy target. With one last glance she turned, pulling them into the tight, squeezing tube of apparition. 

* * *

As soon as their feet met solid ground again Granger collapsed with a groan. 

“Oh no you don't, just a little further. You are not bleeding all over this carpet. It was very expensive and impossible to replace.” Pansy made sure she had a good hold on the other girl before hauling her back up and pulling her down the hall to the guest bedroom. 

For such a tiny, malnourished body, it was a rather difficult and awkward haul. Of course, her guest bedroom had to be at the very end of the hallway. Pansy really didn't have the muscle mass for this, she never did much of the grunt work. Voldemort was much more interested in her Gringotts vaults. 

Upon reaching the bed she allowed both herself and Granger to flop onto the comforter.  _ Merlin _ , being helpful was exhausting. She was already anticipating a nap and she still had a lot of work left to do. Starting with making sure Granger didn't bleed to death. With a groan, she pushed herself upright. 

“Alright Granger, let's take a look here.” Using a careful slicing hex she ripped the back of Granger's shirt open. “Merlin, Granger, you're lucky he didn't cut you in half!” She was indeed very lucky. Pansy could see deep muscle and even the white of bone beneath all the blood. How she wasn't dead already was anybody’s guess. 

“Alright, I need you to hold as still as possible. Feel free to scream though, I've got silencing wards up, and it's going to hurt like a bugger.” She braced her hand against Granger’s good shoulder, trying to make the girl remember to hold still. As soon as she began the incantation Granger tried to pull away. Getting muscles knit back together was never comfortable, but this level of damage had to be excruciating. Pansy continued on, running her wand back and forth across the wound, trying to hold Granger down. 

Before she could finish, the wall behind Pansy was blasted apart. She was thrown across the room, slamming into the far wall before sliding down. All she could make out were shadows and vague shapes in all the dust floating in the air. She was sure she probably had a concussion from the impact as well. 

“Well, well, well. I never would have guessed you'd be the traitor Pans, but then again, you always loved to go against the grain  _ just because you could _ . So what was it this time? Daddy not paying enough attention to you?” 

She was finally able to focus on the body that accompanied the voice.  _ Sweet Circe _ she hated him and his smug face. The troll had never gotten over her rejection. Apparently, it wasn't a common occurrence. 

“If I wanted my father’s attention Pucey, you really think I'd do something quite so life threatening? I'd have just cut up all his ties again if that were the case.” She spit out some blood that was pooling in her mouth. Pansy was pretty sure she'd bitten her tongue on impact. She tried assessing for any other damage while Pucey continued to drone on. It was difficult to draw a deep breath so she guessed at least a couple of her ribs were broken. A quick glance down also showed a shard of wood from her blasted dresser was now making itself right at home in her left thigh. Wonderful. This should be interesting then. She hadn't been listening but zoned back in when Pucey brought up Granger. 

“We never would have caught her if it hadn't been for you, Pans. Avery saw you turn down that alley. You really should be more aware of what's going on around you.” 

Of course, it would be Avery. He wasn't in the best standing with their Lord at the moment. He was also too stupid to come up with a plan on his own to regain favour. Naturally, he would latch onto someone else and ride their coattails. 

Pucey stepped forward grabbing Pansy’s arm and throwing her back on the bed beside Granger. Looking at her, she could tell the poor witch hadn't moved at all. She must have passed out from the pain and blood loss finally. Pansy wished she could pass out just so she wouldn't have to keep listening to Pucey’s voice. Merlin, it was grating. 

“Well, now that we know who the traitor is I suppose there's nothing left to do but bring you to the Dark Lord for punishment. Or execution. It's anybody's guess at this point.” He motioned for Avery and McNair to come further into the room so he could discuss where to take them. Pansy began to panic, looking around the room desperate for something, anything to help them escape.

She flinched when she felt something brush against her hand. Looking down she saw Grangers fingers near hers. Looking up into her face she saw that Granger was looking back at her. Not passed out then. Slowly Granger moved her arm up to her neck and began gently tugging on a chain there. None of the other Death Eaters in the room were paying them any attention. As far as they were concerned, the girls on the bed were incapacitated. 

As she watched, Granger finally reached the end of the chain and pulled something out of the front of her robes. Lying in Granger's hand was a golden time turner. Oh, brilliant Granger had done it again. She had never doubted the witch’s intelligence, nobody who shared classes with her could, but she never would have believed she'd manage to get her hands on a time turner. 

Meeting Granger’s questioning gaze, she gave a subtle nod. Still moving slowly so as not to draw attention, Granger reached over and placed the chain around Pansy’s neck as well. 

“Oi, what do you have there? I'm sure it's something the Dark Lord would love to see.” 

Times up, their movements must not have been as subtle as they had hoped. 

As quickly as she could she grabbed the timepiece, “how many Granger?” 

“Two, two turns!” Her words were slurring, they needed to get her some medical treatment as soon as possible. 

Just as the first Death Eater neared them, Pansy spun the delicate hour glass twice and everything around them began to blur. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Pansy could not believe it was possible for her eyes to feel this gritty. Everything ached, her eyelids were heavy, her head was pounding and her mouth felt like she had swallowed the Sahara. She briefly wondered if Draco had let her drink muggle tequila again and she was hung over. Her confusion didn't last long though as the images flashed through her brain, leading up to the spinning of the time turner. She must have passed out before the spinning stopped. If that were the case, Pansy was grateful. She had been sure she was going to lose her lunch. She couldn't imagine that would end well as they leapt through time. Probably wouldn't have felt very good either with what she suspected were broken ribs. 

Forcing more air into her lungs despite the pain that flared, Pansy opened her eyes. She supposed the Turner must have worked since she didn't recognize anything, indicating they were no longer in her flat. Other than that she had no idea where in time they could have possibly landed. She had never done research on time, so she didn't have any idea how far back two turns would have taken them. 

Remembering Granger, Pansy turned her head slowly trying to locate her. She had already picked a time to travel too, so she figured Granger would have a much better idea of how to proceed. Looking around the room she found herself in what she guessed was a guest bedroom. It was very spartan, only a bedside table, lamp, the bed she was lying on, a hard wooden chair near the bed, and an old beat up trunk at the foot. No sign of Granger anywhere. 

Pansy went to brush some of the hair away from her face but her hand couldn't make it that far. Looking down, she saw her wrist was cuffed to the bed. Panicking, she sat up quickly trying to yank herself free. This only caused her to remember her ribs, and the bruising as the pain shot through her from her quick movements. It did however help ground her back into reality before she let herself slip away into a full blown panic attack. Sitting up she tried to steady herself taking as deep of breaths as she could without sending any more stabbing pains through her body. Merlin, everything hurt! 

Bringing the hand that wasn't cuffed to the bed up to cover her eyes, she recalled the events that had led up to this moment trying to remember how she had ended up stuck to the bed in such a muggle fashion. 

“Granger,” her voice was dry and scratchy. It even hurt to talk. Was there any part of her body that didn't feel like she was ready to die?

“Ah, so you are going to live after all. Pity that, really.” Pansy didn't recognize the voice, but clearly this person was going to be an issue if they were disappointed at her survival. Probably another bloody Gryffindor judging by the bluntness of the statement. 

“Where's Granger”. She hadn't bothered removing her hand from her face. She didn't care enough yet. 

“I'm assuming you mean the little curly-haired witch we found bleeding out next to you. She's stable. Touch and go there for a bit, but she'll live.” 

Pansy felt herself releasing her a heavy breath. Thank Merlin. That meant she’d have an easier time explaining everything. Granger may have been a right swot, but people tended to like her. They found her adorable. Probably because she was so bloody tiny. Pansy could only see that working in her favour amongst these strangers. As long as Granger didn't turn on her. 

She finally brought her hand down and looked toward the door. Her eyes fell on a man leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest. A rather well muscled chest from what she could tell from her current position, and judging by the muscles she could see straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt. It was hard to tell his height as he slouched but she knew he'd be at least a few inches taller than herself. His red hair was long and shaggy around his ears, hanging into his eyes. His pale skin was covered in freckles, and his bright blue eyes were hard as they studied her. 

Clenching her teeth, Pansy forced herself into a sitting position. She felt far too vulnerable to continue this conversation lying down, having a stranger tower over her. It was bad enough being shackled to the bed and without her wand. She had to keep reminding herself to take slow deep breaths. A panic attack would get her nowhere.

“Where is she?” Even though she was a Slytherin, she hated when people beat around the bloody bush. 

The man’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair. “I told you she's fine.”

“That doesn't answer the question of where she is.”

“We thought it best to keep you separated until you could answer some questions.”

“Pansy rolled her eyes, “What makes you think I'll be answering any of your questions?”

The man pushed off from the wall and came to sit in the chair by the bed, poking at the cuff making it rattle against the bed. “Well, you're the one stuck in here until we decide what else to do with you, I’d say that's motivation to give us some answers, especially when you’re the one who's been branded by a madman.” He gestured at the arm cuffed to the bed. Her Dark Mark was on full display. She hadn't realized until then that she wasn't wearing her clothes anymore, but an oversized t-shirt and some boxer shorts that had been rolled at the waist. It felt like she was at least still wearing her own knickers and bra, so nobody would have seen her completely naked. 

“Where are my clothes?” 

He smirked slightly at her. “Don't you worry little witch, our resident healer changed your clothes. Yours were in the way, and covered in blood and dust and she needed to see what she was working with in order to patch you up. Nobody else saw anything they shouldn't have.” He winked at her. Dear Merlin, the man was most definitely a Gryffindor. Wonderful. 

Pansy was still far too tired to deal with this guy. She rubbed her forehead in frustration. This was not how this was supposed to happen. Obviously, Pansy hadn’t known exactly what Granger’s failsafe had been, but she was willing to bet her vault at Gringotts that this wasn’t exactly part of the swots plan. 

“Look, could you just get whoever is in charge here? Dumbledore, or somebody who ranks a little higher than a prison guard in the pecking order.” She could already feel the fatigue settling into her bones and knew she needed to have this conversation quickly before she passed out again. 

“Ah, see, there’s the thing. I’m actually the only one here at the moment, and technically I am in charge for now, seeing as this is my house and all.” He was far too smug for his own good. What she wouldn’t give for her wand right now to hex him into oblivion. She’d even settle for punching him like a muggle if he had been sitting close enough; and if she had the strength to do any damage. 

She huffed in frustration. “Here’s the deal, I have sensitive information that needs to get into the right hands and I have absolutely no guarantee that you are even on the side I want to give that information to. So, if you don’t mind, get me someone else to talk to.” Her voice had slowly risen as she spoke. Her body ached, she was hungry, she had a pounding headache, she was bloody well chained to the bed. She was in no mood for this idiot’s games while he was purposely being obtuse. 

During her small rant, the smug look slowly slid from his face to become more serious than she even thought him capable. He watched her closely, like he was trying to figure out what her game was. Hah! Her game. He had been messing with her since he walked in the door! 

“What exactly do you consider the right side? I’d have guessed the Dark judging by that lovely tattoo, but you haven’t even asked for proof of whose side I’m on, and that has me wondering, especially considering your little friend isn’t Marked, and you had a specific time-turner around your necks.” 

Pansy looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were calculating, and she wondered what else he was thinking about. She sighed. This all would have been so much easier if Granger had been awake. Pansy didn’t know all of the information that would be required to prove their story but she didn’t see that she had much of a choice. She’d have to give him something to work with.

“Well, who’s side are you on then?” She raised a brow as if that was the only obvious turn this conversation could take. 

The man gave her a lopsided grin as he pulled up the sleeve on his shirt, exposing his shoulder. The was a red and black tattoo covering the entire shoulder and upper arm. As far as she could make out, it was a phoenix with his flames burning around him. 

“Order of the Phoenix, at your service, love.”


	3. Chapter 3

Pansy bit the inside of her cheek desperately trying to keep the sarcastic, biting words from rolling off her tongue. She couldn't, however, control the eyeroll. That would have been asking too much. She wouldn't have been surprised if she had strained something. She regretted the action almost immediately as it did nothing to aid her already pounding head. 

“I see.” She deserved a medal for self restraint. “At least we are in the right place then.  _ Wonderfu _ l.” 

“I do find it a bit interesting to know that a Marked Death Eater is willingly wanting to be found by the Order.” So Gryffindor. No finesse whatsoever. How these people survived at all was completely beyond her reasoning. 

“Yes, I'm a Marked Death Eater. No, it was not done willingly. Yes, I  _ know _ you bloody people think everyone has a choice. No, my-” Pansy practically choked trying to say friend,- “partner, is not a Death Eater. In fact, she was the last remaining member of your precious Order in our time.” 

The man had grown very still at her declaration. “That explains how you ended up with that particular Time Turner.” Pansy was certain the comment wasn't actually directed to her. 

“You said that earlier. I'm assuming you recognize it?” There were few things that got under her skin, being out of the loop was a big one. His eyes snapped back to hers at her comment. She watched as his eyes refocused on her, almost as if he'd forgotten she was there. Funny, since she was basically chained up right under his nose. 

“Wha? Oh right, sorry. Yeah. That one in particular actually belongs to one Minerva McGonagall. I'm sure you can understand why we were all very concerned that some unknown witches had used it.” 

At the mention of the transfiguration teacher, Pansy felt all the blood rush from her face. She had been there when her professor had been executed. Voldemort had wanted to make an example of her. Show everyone what happened to those who refused to bend to his will. Pansy had gone home and scrubbed her skin completely raw trying to remove the blood and the memories that played in her mind’s eye on repeat. 

She swallowed, the sound filling the silence between them. “Yeah, I can see how that would be a bit disconcerting.” She prayed she wouldn't have to face the strict woman any time soon; she wasn't so sure her mind could handle bringing up those memories right now. 

The man studied her face for a brief moment before seemingly shaking off the heavy atmosphere that was threatening to suffocate them. 

Slapping his hands against his thighs, he rose from the chair. “Right, well, you look about ready to pass out again. I'm sure you could use some more rest after the beating you took. You were both in pretty bad shape when they brought you in. Sleep does wonders for a body on the mend.” 

He had just reached for the handle when Pansy stopped him, “Wait a second, don't I get a name to go with the memory of the ridiculously nosey, freckled ginger?” 

He turned back to her with a smirk on his lips, “names Gideon Prewett, love.” He continued to open the door and casually said over his shoulder, “and because I know you're  _ dying _ to know who you owe your life too, well, you have James Potter and Sirius Black to thank for that.” With that, the door closed with a resounding  _ click _ . 

Sirius Black and James Potter. James Potter. Potter.  _ Shit.  _ Pansy could only hope Granger wouldn't be in a chatty enough mood to mention she had suggested handing his son over to a psychopath hellbent on killing him. Pansy let herself fall back against the pillow with an  _ oomph _ . She was so royally screwed. 

* * *

The next time Pansy woke she remembered exactly where she was. After the Dark Lord’s victory, it was dangerous to ever be caught unaware. She had a horrible kink in her shoulder from trying to roll away from the side her hand was stuck to. Rolling back over, she went to try and stretch the tension out, but was met by a far too familiar pair of grey eyes. Pansy's breath caught in her chest. 

“Draco.” It was barely more than a whisper, but as the confusion whirled through the eyes of her best friend, she took in more detail of the face the eyes belonged to. There was black hair where there should have been pale blond. The jawline more square where it should have been sharp and pointed. Dark eyelashes that should have been practically translucent. No, not Draco. 

Pansy slumped back against the bed. What she wouldn't give for this to be her best friend here with her. There was no getting back her Draco. Not even back in their right time. Draco was gone. Her heart squeezed painfully as the stranger cleared his throat. 

“That’s a first for me. Sounds like some pretentious name my cousin would come up with for her Malfoy spawn.” The dark-haired man chuckled at his own joke. Pansy didn’t even crack a smile. The memory of her best friend was always a constant ache, and being so forcibly reminded that he wasn’t here was just another twist of that knife. Draco had meant everything to Pansy. Growing up together with such unfeeling and uncaring parents had pushed the two to seek comfort from one another. Everyone had thought they were dating throughout their years at Hogwarts. It had just been a natural assumption since the two rarely went anywhere without the other. Plus, it kept everyone else away who might show interest in either of them. When Draco had been forced to take the Mark, Pansy had been there for him afterwards, letting him cry as he clung to her like a child. When she had received it, he had returned the favor. 

When the Dark Lord had discovered Draco’s duplicitousness he had been livid. Pansy had been made to watch for hours before Draco finally stopped breathing. But upon seeing exactly what the precious Dark Lord was capable of had only made her want him to fail even more. She had redoubled Draco’s efforts. She wouldn’t let her best friend’s memory fade. He wouldn’t have died in vain. 

Upon realizing she wasn’t laughing with him, or even smiling, the man let his laughter fade awkwardly. The silence that fell between them was heavy and stifling. Pansy tried desperately to hold back the tears she could feel surfacing. In this time Draco wasn’t dead. He was just a baby. He hadn’t been branded like cattle or forced to murder. He was still completely innocent, and if Pansy had any say in the matter he would remain that way. He wouldn’t grow up with bigotry and hate being pounded into him. She would take down Lucius Malfoy before he had a chance to ruin his son. She would make the man pay for everything. Pansy would do absolutely anything in this timeline if it meant keeping Draco safe. He may not be her Draco anymore, but she would fight for him until her last breath. 

Taking a shaky breath and pushing all emotion aside, she once again looked at her visitor. She swore he looked vaguely familiar, but was having difficulty placing him. He was obviously related to Draco judging by the eyes, but the dark hair made her suspect it was from his mother’s side, the Black’s, and not the Malfoy’s. Beyond that, she hadn’t a clue. 

The stranger started to squirm under her scrutiny. It felt good to throw someone else off balance. She had lost too much control already. She had to make an effort to not allow a pleased smirk to slide into place. It had been far too long since she had felt satisfaction. 

The man scowled. She must not have been doing as good a job as she thought at hiding her pleasure. Not that she particularly cared. The only reason she wasn’t outright taunting him was because she needed these idiots to believe her. Granger wasn’t going to be much help at the moment so she needed to win the Order over on her own merits. Which, apparently, was going to take a great deal of self control if this interaction was anything to judge by.

She decided it was time to move on. As fun as it was to make the man uncomfortable, he was still a stranger and she was still chained to the bed. “As much fun as this is, I assume you actually came in here for a reason? Beyond staring at the girl chained to the bed, that is.”

The man jumped at the sound of her voice. Did he really think they would continue to just sit here silently, staring at each other? Bloody ridiculous. He cleared his throat again. 

“Right. I was sent in to get some information.” Her eyes rolled. It couldn’t be helped, it was a reflex. “And it would be in your best interest to give me straight answers.”

She couldn’t hide the smirk this time. “Or what, you’ll torture it out of me? Throw in a few  _ crucio’s _ ? I thought Dumbledore’s darling Order was above such things. Can’t have the warriors of Light getting their hands dirty. What kind of message would that send? Everyone would assume they were no better than the Death Eaters.” 

The man clenched his jaw. A vein became visible as it throbbed in his neck. She could tell he was having a difficult time not reacting to her words. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“Listen here Death Eater, I don’t care what you told Prewett, you’re scum. Just like every other idiot who takes that bloody Mark. Your precious Lord will fall, and when he does, you’ll go to Azkaban with the rest of his lot and rot there for the rest of your days. We might even be able to get you an early ticket if Moody can convince Dumbledore that anybody bearing the Mark isn’t worth our time, and anything you tell us will be useless lies. You and your lot deserve nothing more than that hellhole. So I’d think carefully before you start getting comfortable. Don’t forget, you’re the one chained to the bed.”

He leaned back looking completely satisfied with himself. Pansy couldn’t believe he had outright said all of that to her. He sounded just as prejudiced as any Death Eater, and he was supposed to be one of the good guys. Her heart sunk. She was in a lot of trouble if Prewett was the anomaly and this man’s reaction was the norm. 

“Well, then I suppose answering any questions you have would be a waste of both our time. I’ll only lie anyway, apparently. You seem very sure of yourself. Why don’t we just spare ourselves some grief and call it a day then?” Her voice dripped with sticky sweet sarcasm. She was tired, and sore, and this idiot had barged in here and started insulting her without so much as a “How are you feeling?” This man knew nothing about her and because of a stupid tattoo on her arm, just assumed that was all he needed to know. Playing nice would get her nowhere with a man like that, and she was done bowing down for someone else’s ego. She had done enough of that for one lifetime. 

His face turned red as he quickly stood, the force knocking his chair over. Just as he opened his mouth to undoubtedly start yelling at her, the door creaked open. A head of sandy blond hair peeked in. Three long scars ran across the face, but it didn’t stop her from noticing he was good looking. If anything the scars added a rugged, mysterious quality. Judging by the sweater he wore, he needed all the mysterious allure he could get. Granger would probably get along perfectly with this man who looked like he’d be right at home in a library.

“Everything alright in here Padfoot?” He tilted his chin towards where the chair had fallen as an explanation for his interruption. 

“Just fine Moony, just fine.” The man visibly swallowed his anger and turned to speak directly to this “Moony”. “Shouldn’t you be in bed mate? It’s only been a day since the full moon.” 

The man at the door,  _ Moony _ , (What kind of name was that?) nodded his head slowly. Now that it was pointed out to her, Pansy could see the dark circles under the man’s eyes, and the exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. 

“You’re right, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright, and to let you know the other girl is awake now.” Pansy perked up at this.  _ Thank Merlin!  _ It was about bloody time! Pansy’s people skills hadn’t improved much since Hogwarts. She needed some backup to smooth things over and convince these people she wasn’t about to murder them all in their beds. 

“Right.” The dark-haired man turned back to her, “We aren’t done here, Death Eater.” He stalked towards the door, kicking the chair out of his path. 

“Well, it was certainly delightful to meet you. Looking forward to speaking with you again soon!” She really did need to reign in the sarcasm. Even she knew it was overkill. 

Just as the door swung shut she heard  _ Moony _ whisper “Sirius, you need to stop mate. Dumbledore said we are to treat her with kindness.”

This Sirius was apparently just as charming as she was. All cuddly like a cactus. “Well, then he can bloody well get his arse in here and deal with this shite instead of leaving it to the rest of us.”

The door clicked shut and she was alone once more.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Hermione desperately prayed she was dead as she regained consciousness. She could finally stop fighting. All her friends and family had already gone on before her. What she wouldn’t give to see them again. Of course, that’s when the pain finally caught up to her brain. There was a searing ache across her back and all of her muscles hurt. Lying on her stomach, she tried to sit up, but only managed to lurch to the side and retch. 

It wasn’t until she was done, gasping for air, that she realized someone had moved a waste basket under her face to limit the mess. The person was also currently holding back her hair, speaking to her soothingly. The hand released its grip on her curls and instead helped her back onto the bed, keeping her lying face down. 

“There we go, love. Try not to move too much, don’t want to go ripping your back open again.” 

That voice. Hermione  _ knew  _ that voice. Moving as little as possible, she turned her head to the side the voice had come from. Sitting in a chair pulled up next to her bed, was a much less scarred, much less worn, Remus Lupin. He smiled at her, clearly trying to be both comforting and reassuring.

Hermione couldn’t stop the tears that filled her eyes, instead, hiding her face back in her pillow. That didn’t stop the werewolf from hearing her sniffles. She felt his hand gently begin to stroke her hair, making shushing noises. Other than that, he just let her cry, for which Hermione was grateful. It had been a long time since she had let herself cry, always trying to be strong for everyone else. But having the evidence of the Order’s failure in her time, so blaringly obvious before her, was the final straw. She had known for a while that the odds of winning were almost nonexistent by the time Parkinson had found her in that alley, hiding amongst the rubbish. 

At the thought of Parkinson, Hermione quickly forced the flood of emotions down. There would be time to examine them later, in private. Right now she had other things to take care of. She took a few extra deep breaths before once again facing her dead professor. Remus smiled again once he saw she was no longer crying and was ready to speak to him.

“Sorry, Remus. You just took me by surprise.” Like any try Gryffindor, he couldn’t keep his shock from showing on his face. Hermione felt slightly better at not being the only person thrown off balance in the room.

He tried valiantly, and failed horribly, to school his features back into polite interest. “So, it’s true then? You really are from the future?”

Hermione couldn’t suppress the small smile at his obvious awe, “Yes, yes I am.” 

At her confirmation Remus leaned back in his chair, his hand reflexively musing his sandy hair. Hermione felt a clench of nostalgia in her chest at the gesture. How many times had she watched her Remus make the same motion as they poured over old texts together? It was a gesture he made whenever deep in thought, and she knew it was best to let him mull over whatever he was processing instead of interrupting. This conversation would go far more smoothly if she let him arrange his thoughts. 

“So, you obviously know me, but seeing as I don’t recognize you, I’m assuming I haven’t met you yet. How far back did you travel?” 

At his question, the small smile slid from her face. “That depends on what year it is.” 

Remus gave her a puzzled look, “Did you not set the time turner? Do you not know how far back you came?”

Hermione sighed, she was exhausted but knew she needed to give them at least some information before she fell back to sleep. “I wasn’t the one that set the turner, so I can’t be totally sure what year it is. I meant to travel back twenty years, so it  _ should _ be 1978. But we were in a bit of a hurry, and everything is a little fuzzy so we could very well have accidentally ended up in the wrong time.”

He nodded, accepting her answer. “You were successful then, it’s November 2, 1978.”

Hermione released a loud sigh, closing her eyes, “Oh, thank Merlin. We made it. To answer your question then, we traveled back twenty years for sure.” She heard Remus shifting in his seat next to her. This apparently wasn’t going to be the end of his questions. She only hoped he would be satisfied soon. She was fighting to stay awake as it was, she didn’t have time for him to work up the courage to ask his next question.

Without looking at him she asked, “What is it Remus?”

She pictured the blush that would be spreading up his neck at being called out on his fidgeting. He had always hated drawing attention to himself. Opening her eyes once more, she saw she had been correct. There was a dark red blush climbing up his neck, staining his cheeks. He cleared his throat before once again making eye contact.

“How did you get McGonagall’s time turner? And why did you bring a Death Eater back with you?”

The million dollar questions. She was at least grateful he wasn’t going to waste more time asking useless ones. 

“Professor McGonagall gave it to me shortly after Hogwarts fell. The Order was being hunted down and slaughtered. We were desperate to escape, but it wasn’t looking good for us, so she handed me the turner and told me to use it when there were no other options left. Then she-” Hermione tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She would never forget the look of determination on her favorite professor's face as she turned and headed back the way they had come, giving them more time to make their escape. She hadn’t seen what they did to the woman, but she had heard enough to have the image haunt her nightmares. 

Seeing her distress, Remus didn’t push. “I see. So we won't win this war any time soon.” It wasn’t a question. 

Hermione felt the need to reassure him as much as she could. “There’s a reprieve in 1981 that lasts for fourteen years. Everyone thought he was gone, but he was just biding his time. He came back in full force in 1995, but nobody really believed it until a year later. So it wasn't constant fighting, it only really got bad again in 1996 when everyone finally accepted his return.”

Remus ran his thumb across his stubbled chin, processing what he had been told so far. 

“And the Death Eater?”

A small laugh escaped her. “That was a complete surprise, though certainly not unwelcome. She found me when I was sure I was going to die, alone and the last remaining member of the Order. Instead of turning me in, she brought me back to her flat, and tried patching me up the best she could. That’s when the others found us. I couldn’t leave her there after she helped me, and I hardly had the energy to use the time turner myself anyway. Again, she helped. If it weren’t for her, I would already be dead, or kept alive for future torturing and information. She would be too for helping me.”

They lapsed into silence. Remus, thoughts racing with everything this small woman had told him, while she tried to not be sucked back into her own depressing thoughts. 

Hermione couldn’t fight the exhaustion in her body any longer, letting her eyes fall closed. Remus must have noticed the movement, because he suddenly stood, speaking softly so as not to startle her, “I think that’s enough for now. It’s a lot to process and you still have a lot of healing ahead of you. Get some rest, and I’ll have some food brought up next time you’re awake.”

She was asleep before the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

The next time Hermione awoke it was to the pleasant, and very welcome, smell of warm stew and fresh bread. Opening her eyes, she had her guess confirmed. Sitting on the nightstand next to her was a steamy bowl, with two slices of white bread. Her stomach grumbled at the idea of being this close to having a decent meal. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been able to sit down and have a filling meal. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been full. Trying to stay ahead of a bunch of psychopaths hellbent on murdering you in the most gruesome ways they could think of has a tendency to make small things, like regular meals, into luxuries. 

She tried to roll over so she could sit up, but only managed to flop back onto her pillow and groan. Apparently a slicing hex of that caliber took more than just a couple of naps to fix. Hearing a soft chuckle, she moved so she could see whoever had brought her the mouth-watering food. 

Shiny black hair that fell just so in that I-woke-up-like-this-way look. Grey eyes shined as he tried not to outright laugh at her discomfort. Those perfect lips twisted up at the corner trying to contain his mirth. 

“Sirius Black if you came in here just to have a laugh at the invalid, you’d better shove off before I hex your bollocks.” Hermione mumbled into her pillow. He must have heard her clear enough because he finally let go of the laugh he was trying to suppress. 

“Sorry love, you take a good laugh where you can get it these days around here,” Sirius replied once he had gotten himself under control. Hermione couldn’t help but crack a smile. The Sirius of her time had been prone to ridiculous bouts of brooding, followed closely by childish tantrums. She had been sure his extended stay in Azkaban had probably stunted his emotional growth. It warmed her heart to see this Sirius laughing so freely without that hint of bitterness tainting it. This is what he had always meant to be. 

She moved her head back to the side so she could look at him, “Well, are you going to help me sit up then or were you just sent to torture me with the smells of that wonderful food?” Without a word Sirius scooched forward in his chair, leaning to help her roll over, before grabbing under her arms, rearranging the pillows so she could be propped up enough to eat. The contact with her back still stung, but not enough to deter her from enjoying her meal. 

Once she was settled, Sirius placed the tray across her lap. With a very serious look he asked, “Now, are you sure you have the strength to be feeding yourself? I’ve had lots of practice hand feeding my dear,  _ deer _ friend when he simply cannot perform the task themselves.”

Hermione raised one eyebrow, “Are you trying to be punny? Playing on the word “dear”?”

Sirius smiled at her, “Ah, so you do know our little secret then, my dear time traveler. Didn’t want to ask you outright in case you weren’t already privy to that information.”

“Honestly, the list of things I  _ don’t _ know about you people is shorter than the list of things I do know.” 

“Sounds like there’s some interesting stories in there.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.

“There are, but you’re just going to have to wait. My stomach feels like it’s going to eat itself if I don’t eat this soon.” She picked up her spoon to emphasize her point.

Sirius nodded, gesturing for her to tuck in, as he sat back in his chair. Hermione knew he wasn’t a patient man, but she couldn’t believe the amount of fidgeting! Clasping and then unclasping his hands, crossing his arms, uncrossing them, jiggling one leg, tapping his fingers against said leg.

“Sirius, I’m sure you have other things to do besides wait for me to finish eating. I plan on enjoying this and your constant shifting isn’t going to make me go any faster. In fact, it makes me want to go slower just to see how long it takes for you to break. I promise I’ll answer your questions later.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer and quickly hopped up from his seat. “Right, I’ll be back then. Lots to do, saving the world and everything.” He winked at her before heading out the door.

She let out a heavy sigh once he was gone. The man was quite literally a puppy with too much energy. She pushed all other thoughts of Sirius away. Hermione was determined to savor every bite. 

Just as she was wiping the last bite of bread around the bowl the bedroom door opened and Remus entered. He had just opened his mouth to say something, when someone down the hall started yelling. They were too far away to make out the words, and they shared a confused look. Understanding lit both their faces when another voice responded just as loudly. 

“Well, I see Sirius went back to speak with Parkinson. Sounds like it’s going well.”

Hermione laughed as he stepped in and shut the door, dampening the shouts further. Her future professor had always had a subtly sarcastic sense of humor. You had to know him well to understand the subtle change in his inflection when he was joking. 

“And here I thought they would have been just the best of friends.” Hermione returned, “They can both be so crushingly witty it’s a wonder they haven’t bonded yet over ridiculing everyone else around them.” Remus snorted at that. Yes, Sirius could be rather caustic at times. 

“It’s only a matter of time then before they band together against the rest of us mere mortals.” Coming closer, Remus noticed she had eaten all of her food. “And I see, you’ve finished. I can take that back down for you then.” He had grabbed up the tray before she could reply. Seeing him so close up only made Hermione realize just how tired the man looked.

“Remus, just leave it on the nightstand, you look exhausted. You should be resting after a full moon, not waiting on other people.”

At her casual mention of the full moon Remus lost his grip on the tray and it fell to the floor, the bowl shattering.

“You know?” He whispered. It may have been soft, but Hermione caught the panic that was starting to build.

“She quickly grabbed his hand trying to ground him. “Remus please, it’s alright, I would never betray your trust. I only mentioned it because nobody else is here. I would never share your secret.”

“My secret? You’re not concerned about, oh i don’t know, the fact I could kill you?”

Hermione made sure he was looking her in the eye before she replied, “I’ve seen enough of people to understand it isn’t a disease that makes you a monster, it’s what’s in your heart that matters. You may be dangerous once a month, but there are others who are dangerous the whole month. People who kill indiscriminately regardless of age or gender. They are the real monsters, Remus.”

He could only stare at her as he swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. Finally he whispered, “Does it really get that bad?”

“Worse than you can ever imagine.”

Before their conversation could go any further, the bedroom door was thrown open so hard it bounced off the wall. Both Hermione and Remus jumped at the sudden intrusion. 

Parkinson stormed in, clearly on the warpath. “Oh good, you’re awake, Granger. Now you can be useful.” She threw her arm out behind her, gesturing at the person who had followed her, “Now would be a wonderful time to explain that I, in no way, coerced you into taking me back in time. You were not my prisoner, you acted of your own free will, this was not a plot by the Dark Lord to plant spy’s amongst the Order, and - what was the last one you accused me of? - Oh yes, I have not  _ imperiused _ you into helping me because I am a no good Death Eater taking advantage of you and you are a  _ helpless little lady caught up in my sneaky Slytherin lies.” _ The last bit was said with so much sarcasm, Hermione was surprised it wasn’t literally dripping from Parkinson’s mouth.

Hermione turned her attention from the irate girl to glare at Sirius. “Helpless little lady am I?”

Sirius audibly gulped. He knew that tone all too well from goading Evans over the years. He was about to be metaphorically, possibly literally, ripped apart.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Pansy was bored. She was beyond bored. She was certain she could literally feel her brain cells dying from the lack of stimuli. Nobody had come in since Sirius left. There were no windows in the tiny room, giving her no indication of how much time had passed. She had taken a nap at some point so she knew it was at least a few hours. Pansy had always been fond of a good nap. Unfortunately, the passage of time made her aware of other bodily needs. A visit to the lady’s room was needed, if the smell was anything to go by. 

She had managed to situate herself into a semi-comfortable sitting position, even with her hand still awkwardly cuffed to the bed. She didn’t want to be caught unawares the next time someone came in. Lying down with someone else in the room, not knowing what they planned to do to her, made her feel vulnerable. She was Pansy Parkinson, she didn’t do vulnerable. 

She was tracing patterns with her eyes in the grain of the floorboards when the door finally opened. Oh good, the ginger was back with that bloody smirk plastered right to his face. She vaguely wondered if it was stuck that way, or if all Gryffindor’s knew that look. It screamed for a challenge. She had always hated it. She had seen it on the Weasley twins far too often for her liking. It meant something was about to happen, and it wasn’t likely to be in her favour. 

“Good morning, sunshine. Rest well?” Yeah, nothing good was going to come from this conversation. He was far too smug and nobody should ever be that chipper in the morning. 

“Yes, hello Prewett. What do you want?” She was painfully aware of her appearance and possible odor and she didn’t have time to have him prattle on before making his point. Small talk was not an option at the moment. She supposed she should be at least a little grateful it hadn’t been Black again. He wouldn’t have let her get two words in edgewise. 

Her caustic tone didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. If he was as easy to read as every other Gryffindor she knew, he found it amusing. 

“Right down to the point then, my little snake. Well, if you must know, I’ve been sent to see if you needed anything.” So he was going to play by the rules was he- play the perfect host? Well played, Prewett. Well played.

“Some reading material wouldn’t be unwelcome. Although, I must say you Order types really missed a few lessons in manners. If I’m to be staying here for the unforeseeable future, shouldn’t I get a tour?” Two could play this game.

His lip quirked, clearly trying to suppress a grin. She knew she had already won. If he had been raised even remotely similar to her, he wouldn’t be able to refuse. To refuse would be to show that distinct lack of manners she had just accused him of. Refusing meant she was truly a prisoner, that they were so suspicious of her, they wouldn’t let her out of her room. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him, as the silence grew.

Finally, he cracked and gave her a real grin, no sign of that ridiculous smirk. “All right little snake, you win. Let’s give you a tour shall we?” Point to Pansy. Everyone in Slytherin had learned quickly not to argue when she gave them “the look”. It never ended in their favour. It was better for everyone involved to not fight against the inevitable; Pansy getting her way. She was sure it was more from her lack of control over her life at home, then actually being spoiled. She quickly shut down that train of thought. Those thoughts led to a whole other kettle of fish she didn’t want to get into at the moment. Especially with the grinning ginger waiting for her.

With her free hand, she gestured to her still shackled arm. “Now, that’s all settled then, what say we do a little something to remedy this, hm?” She knew she sounded ridiculous, but it was surprisingly fun to banter with him. 

His grin turned into a full blown smile as he crossed the room towards her. “As the lady demands.” He mock bowed to her before pulling out a key and unlocking her wrist. She couldn’t help rubbing it once it was free. Though it hadn’t been terribly tight, it had still chafed after sleeping with it on. She couldn’t resist rolling her shoulders a few times, trying to loosen the muscles that had cramped up in protest of being unable to move much. 

“Thank you sir. Now for my tour.” She held out her hand imperiously. This game was fun. She hadn’t had real fun in such a long time. Not since Draco- No. She would not think about that right now. Her Draco was to be kept locked away tight, only to be taken out and remembered when she could take advantage of the cover of darkness, when she was sure to be left alone with her tears. Nobody else needed to know. Her Draco was for her alone to mourn. This Draco would never live that life. Not if she had anything to say about it.

She forced the smile back into place as Prewett took her hand. Bloody Gryffindor would probably want to have a sit down and talk about feelings if he knew about the unpleasant thoughts swirling in her brain. No thank you, very much. There had been enough emotions and feelings flying around to last her the rest of forever. There were definitely some things she missed about her snakepit. Cold and stoic, were two of them. 

He led her by the hand out into the hall. Pansy would never admit it, but she clung to that show of companionship desperately, needing it to keep her from bolting. Leaving her room meant there were fewer barriers between her and any hostile Order members, like Black. Prewett wasn’t her first pick, but she’d take what she could get. Beggars couldn’t be choosers after all. She squared her shoulders and brought her chin up. Just because she was a nervous wreck on the inside, didn’t give her any excuse to show anything less than perfect composure on the outside. 

They had only made it a few paces down the hall before they stopped in front of a door that stood slightly ajar. 

“Our first stop along your grand tour is the washroom. One of the more popular rooms in the house, if I do say so myself. This is just one of three such rooms. There’s another on the main floor and one on the floor above us. I’m sure you’d appreciate a closer look right now?” He quirked a brow at her. He knew exactly how long she had been stuck in that room, but of course, being the gentleman he was, would never come right out and say it directly. 

Catching his point quickly, she dashed in and shut the door behind her. It wasn’t a large bathroom, nothing like Park Hall by any means, but she supposed it was probably considered average. It was done up with different shades of earthy brown for the tiles and walls, and a spring green for the shower curtain, hand towels, and a pile of big fluffy towels folded neatly next to the tub. She found it somewhat tragic how excited she was at the prospect of getting a chance to use them. She wasn’t sure how long she had been unconscious, but she had been in the same clothes the entire time she had been in the past. She was sure she was a bit of an eye sore. She most certainly would have offended her mother’s delicate sensibilities.

Sure enough, catching sight of herself in the mirror, she couldn’t suppress a grimace. Her hair was greasy and sticking out randomly, not so dissimilar from how she remembered Potter’s atrocious hair poking out every which way. Her skin was paler than usual. Probably from her near brush with death and blood loss. The lack of color in her face made the dark circles under her eyes stand more prominent. She had lost some weight too since Hogwarts. Understandable with what she had been living with previous to their jump in time. It had been a long time since she had taken a good long look at herself. She had avoided it as much as possible, only taking in one feature at a time. She had still needed to keep up the appearance of being perfectly composed. It wouldn’t do for her to look slovenly. Others might find that suspect and start asking questions.

Pansy sighed and heaved herself off the door she had been leaning on. Prewett wouldn’t wait forever and someone else would want the room sooner or later. She stripped quickly, folding her clothes nicely and setting them on the counter. Some habits would never die it seemed. When the water was near scalding she hopped in. Pansy loved long hot showers. She truly couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to have one and simply indulge. Too many had been a necessity as she tried desperately to scrub the blood from her skin. She released another sigh. She couldn’t afford to indulge this time either. Prewett was waiting. She doubted too many people would be happy she was out of her room. She didn’t want to give them another reason to hate her for taking over the shower. 

She hopped out and snatched up one of the fluffy towels she had been eyeing. Merlin’s saggy pants! Someone had charmed them to be toasty warm. Morgana bless the wonderful, wonderful person who had thought of it. She made a mental note to find out who it was later so she could send them an anonymous gift basket or something in thanks. She couldn’t very well come out and say thank you to their face. Just because nobody knew her here, she still had a reputation to uphold. Heaven forbid they think her a cuddly lion and get touchy feely. She shuddered at the thought. 

Sadly, there was no other option but to wear the clothes she had been wearing before. She would need to ask for something else later. Probably when Granger was awake. It was more likely they’d listen if it was one of their precious Order asking and not the Death Eater. She frowned at the thought. Pansy knew it was always going to be difficult, whatever Granger’s plan, but she hadn’t been prepared to literally be dropped into a Phoenix nest. The Mark on her arm gave them every reason to distrust and hate her. Well, she would just have to give them every other reason to want to be her best bloody friend. She could be charming when she wanted to be. She just didn’t want to be very often. There weren’t many people she thought were worth the effort.

Exiting the bathroom, she noticed Prewett leaning against the opposite wall talking to-himself? Sweet Circe, there were two of him. She shook her head at the ridiculous thought. Obviously they were twins. She wondered if their time jump had scrambled her brains for not realizing it right off the bat. Nutter. She rolled her eyes at herself. She needed to pull herself together. She was certain the first scent of blood would bring the lions running for more. 

Seeing she was done, Prewett gestured to the other man, “Parkinson, this is my brother Fabian. If you couldn’t tell, we are twins.” Something was off. This was a game the Weasley twins had been very fond of. She knew what they were up to. 

“No.” Both sets of blue eyes widened. “No, I believe he’s Gideon and you’re Fabian.” She loved the deer in the wand light look they were giving her. It apparently wasn’t very often they were called out on their game, and she was pleasantly smug that she had caught them.

“Eon, marry this witch immediately,” Fabian said quietly. Ok, so nobody ever apparently called them on it. It was ridiculous how proud she felt at having caught them red-handed, but she had learned long ago to take the little pleasures wherever and whenever she could get them. 

Prewett snorted. “Why don’t you marry her Ian?” He shoved his brother’s shoulder good naturedly. 

Prewett- Merlin, she’d have to find another way to address them- the new one, stuck out his tongue at the other one. If Pansy hadn’t been so used to seeing the Gryffindor’s at school, such a display would have shocked her. Prewett’s were, after all, still part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Blood-traitors or not, there were some traditions and rules that they all adhered to.

“Now Eon, you know perfectly well she isn’t exactly my type. But, if she were, I’d be all over her like a werewolf on a chocolate frog.”

Pansy wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or not. The comparison was flattering, remembering her ex-professors penchant for the treats, but on the other hand, how was she not his type?! Pansy was everyone’s type. If she felt it was worth putting in the effort, anyway. 

The first Prewett held up his hands in defeat, before turning back to her. “Forgive this idiot, he wouldn’t know a diamond if someone chucked it at his head.” He gave her a wink as he clapped his brother on the shoulder, “This here, is my baby brother, Fabian. As you can see, I am by far the better looking of the two.” Merlin, if his head got any bigger he wouldn’t fit through the doors. 

“Come off it, Gideon. You’re two minutes older, and let’s be realistic here, we look exactly the same.” FabIAN and GidEON. Now it made sense. Merlin those Weasley’s didn’t fall far from this nut tree. Only they would find a joke that lame, this amusing. 

“Are you two still at it? I swear you’ve been arguing about it since the day you were born. You’d think after twenty-four years you’d have learned to live with it, Fabian.”

Oh good, the circus monkey had arrived. Pansy had been secretly hoping he wasn’t even at headquarters today. She had been having fun with the Prewett’s, and Black had to come and ruin it. Raining on their parade. Like the little Black cloud he was. She’d only had one conversation with him so far, but Merlin did she hate the man already. It was like he was a child stuck in a man’s body, naively thinking everything was a straightforward black and white. Pansy had seen enough to know the intricacies of those grey shades in between. Good people were perfectly capable of some of the most despicable deeds, while she had seen some bad people be some of the most kind. He’d learn soon enough. 

Black must have finally noticed her standing there as he was now glaring, playful cheeriness gone. 

“Since when were we letting Death Eater’s run loose in headquarters?” The venom in his voice would have made her cringe if she hadn’t used it so many times herself. She had always used it as a cover for feeling insecure, she doubted Black was much different, having been raised in a similar household. 

Gideon’s jaw clenched while Fabian just looked confused. It seemed Gideon hadn’t informed his brother yet about Black’s “issue”.

“Come on now, Sirius. Don’t be like that. Dumbledore said she isn’t a prisoner, and we shouldn’t treat her like one.” It sounded like this wasn’t the first time Gideon had said this to Black. He almost sounded bored. It made Pansy wonder just many times they had actually had this argument already. The glare Black leveled at her was as dark as his name. 

He pointed an unwavering finger at her, “Back to your room now Death Eater.” 

“There’s no need for name calling, Sirius.” Fabian was clearly trying to lighten the mood. It felt flatter than the pancakes Pansy once tried to make herself. 

She glared back, arms crossed over her chest, refusing to let this man-child push her around. 

“We’re just doing a tour of the place, then we will bring her right back to her room. I’ll even let you ward the door, mate, alright?” She was slightly hurt at Gideon’s compromise, but couldn’t blame him. They needed to give Black something or else he would continue down this warpath like a rampaging hippogriff. 

Black’s nostrils flared. “I don’t know what you’ve done to these idiots, or how you’ve managed it without a wand, but I do know that Death Eater’s don’t just change sides. You had to have believed all that pureblood shite at some point to have given yourself up to that madman.”

Pansy could feel her own temper rising. Who did he think he was, standing there judging her for past choices? He knew nothing about her aside from her name and that she was branded. She had her reasons for bowing to a maniac. She had loved ones too, people she was willing to do anything for in order to keep them safe. They weren’t all heartless sycophants wanting to revel in a little death and destruction. He knew nothing. 

Black didn’t notice her anger building, or care as he carried on. “There’s no doubt in my mind you coerced that poor, little lady in there. You probably got her all tripped up in your sneaky Slytherin lies, taking her prisoner, forcing her to take you back in time so you could spy on us. What was it, your side losing in the future? You’re master dead? You fall out of favour? You’re a no good Death Eater, and I wouldn’t put it past you to have used the imperius on her, force her against her will. That’s what your type does, ‘innit?” 

The disgusted sneer on his face somehow transformed his angelic features into something horrible, promising of dark things to come. That was the final straw. Pansy snapped. She wasn’t going to take this kind of behaviour from a grown-arse man! He needed to be dealt with quickly before he decided to put action to his words. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Moony man walking down the hall, stopping at a door three down from her own. If she had taken the time to think about it, there could be lots of reasons the man had entered that particular room, it could have been his room for all she knew. But she didn’t stop to think first, she acted, like a fool-hardy Gryffindor. 

Her silence was apparently as good as an admission of guilt to Black, and he wasn’t going to wait for her to go back of her own accord a moment longer. He bent down, moving to throw her over his shoulder. Having a boy for your best friend had made her far too familiar with this action. Instead of having her thrown over his shoulder, he ended up with a knee smashing into his chin, knocking his head backward. 

“Do not touch me. Ever.” Pansy stomped down the hall leaving Black to stare owlishly after her. Probably the first time he’d ever been unsuccessful with that move. Sadly, he recovered quickly, moving to catch up to her as she made her way down the hall. 

Coming to the door she had seen Moony disappear through, she flung it open. It was probably harder than necessary, but she had reached her breaking point and no longer cared. Upon seeing Granger was finally awake she stormed into the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake, Granger. Now you can be useful.” She threw her arm out behind her, gesturing at the person who had followed her, “Now would be a wonderful time to explain that I, in no way, coerced you into taking me back in time. You were not my prisoner, you acted of your own free will, this was not a plot by the Dark Lord to plant spies amongst the Order, and - what was the last one you accused me of? - Oh yes, I have not imperiused you into helping me because I am a no good Death Eater taking advantage of you and you are a helpless little lady caught up in my sneaky Slytherin lies.” She knew the snark was a bit over the top, but she needed to make these idiots understand she wasn’t about to murder them all in there beds!

Besides, she really wanted to see Black get his arse kicked, who better than little, unassuming, Granger. She was the perfect example of not judging a book by its cover. She had seen the time the witch had punched Draco. The tiny woman could hold her own.

Granger slowly turned her attention from Pansy to Black, taking in the scene before her. Her features hardened, “Helpless little lady, am I?”

Pansy turned to Black, barely, suppressing her glee. He was so in for it now. She would have loved to give him a lashing herself, but she was far too tired to keep dealing with him right now. Plus, she would never admit it, but she needed to feel like she had some back up here. That she wasn’t so completely alone. That someone would stand up with her. 

Sirius audibly gulped, seeming to realize the severity of the situation he had suddenly found himself in.


	6. Chapter 6

Pansy could see the muscle in Granger’s jaw tick, indicating how tightly she was clenching it. Even though they had never been on decent speaking terms, Pansy had still paid attention to the bushy-haired witch. How else was she supposed to come up with ammunition to use against her and her little friends? In all those years, Pansy only ever remembered seeing that small movement a handful of times. The first time she noticed it, Potter had just received a racing broom and been given a position on the Quidditch team, courtesy of a dozen broken school rules. The second time that she could recall was during their O.W.L.s, right before Granger had a bit of a breakdown because some fourth year Hufflepuffs were being too loud in the corner of the library where she had been trying to study. She had been escorted to the hospital wing for a Calming Draught as she continued ranting about common decency and basic etiquette while in the shared space. The last time it made an appearance, Granger had ended up leading Umbridge out to the Forbidden Forest and leaving her with the centaurs. None of those moments had ended well for those she felt had earned her ire. Pansy couldn’t wait to see what form of retribution Hermione’s wrath would rain down on Black’s perfect, little world. 

She watched as Sirius straightened to his full height, trying to placate the tiny witch. “I’m perfectly aware of just how capable you are, Princess -”

Granger cut him off as she held up her hand. “Sirius, we need to get one thing straight right now. I am not, nor will I ever be, your ‘ _ princess _ . _ ’ _ Anybody’s princess, for that matter. I am not helpless. Parkinson did not force me to do anything. In fact,  _ she saved my life _ . She had been helping the resistance up to the point where she found me huddled in that alleyway, bleeding to death. So I would appreciate it if you would use that intelligence, which I know you have a considerable amount of - even though you try to hide it - to try and filter some of the things coming out of your mouth before you find something  _ truly _ disgusting coming out.” She picked up her wand from its place on her bedside table and idly twirled it between her fingers. She may have been small, but Granger really was a terrifying witch. Pansy had to thank Circe the bushy-haired witch hadn’t been a Death Eater. 

The other man, Moony, standing beside Granger was starting to change colour as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back his laughter. Judging by Black’s self assured airs, it wasn’t very often any member of the female persuasion wasn’t flattered by his attentions, and his friend was taking a great deal of pleasure from the dumbstruck look on his face. She supposed Black probably didn’t deal with his advances being rejected very well. 

Granger turned her attention to the man laughing beside her and a smile spread across her face. “You alright there, Remus?”

Remus. That name rang a very familiar bell. Where did she know that name…? Pansy took a closer look at the laughing man, and for the first time  _ really  _ looked at the scars running across his otherwise adorable good features. She could feel the blood drain out of her face when her swirling thoughts finally clicked together. She recognized those scars now, and the sandy hair. It was the lack of moustache that was throwing her off, and the laughing. She couldn’t ever recall seeing her former Professor show any emotion other than politely amused. She did, however, painfully recall how unkind she had been to the man, commenting on his battered wardrobe, his obvious exhaustion, and of course, finally, that he was a werewolf. 

Pansy felt ill. Though she knew the conversation had continued on around her, she suddenly found no joy in listening to Granger berate Black for being a chauvinistic idiot. Though she had been bored out of her mind not so long ago, Pansy wanted nothing more than to return to her room and hide. She was just so tired of being haunted by the ghosts of her past, or future, whatever it was now. 

Without so much as a parting word, Pansy turned and left the room, moving past a thoroughly chastised Black, walking down the hall as quickly as she could without raising any alarm, before she entered the room that had become hers, closing the door softly behind her. Heaving a sigh, Pansy shuffled over to her bed, allowing gravity to pull her down in a graceless heap. She pulled one of the two pillows down from the head of the bed, curling around it as she let her tears fall, keeping as quiet as she could. 

* * *

Hermione quickly fell silent as Parkinson walked out, giving no indication as to what made her suddenly leave when she had been the one to barge into the bedroom in all her indignant glory. Remus cleared his throat, caught just as off guard as everyone else in the room, as he shuffled his feet. 

“So we are just letting her wander around the house now, however she pleases?” Sirius had apparently recovered his righteous anger during the shocked silence following Parkinson's exit. 

A red-haired man standing behind Sirius, who Hermione could only assume was a Prewett, let out a frustrated huff. “How many times do I have to make it clear to you, Black?  _ She isn’t a prisoner _ . She has just as much right to walk the halls here as you do. In fact, she may have even more rights than you soon if you don’t get your head on right. This may be headquarters, but it’s still mine and Fabian’s house.” 

The dark look on Sirius’ face grew thunderous. “Fine, if you want to get cosy with a bloody Death Eater, that’s on your heads. I don’t need to be here for this shit. Floo me when she tries murdering you lot in your sleep.” With those words, he stormed from the room.

The rest of the occupants in the room remained rooted where they stood. Nobody was quite sure what to do or say after that. The atmosphere in the room had changed so drastically, nobody wanted to be the first to break the silence. Just like the Weasley twins, though, the Prewetts seemed unable to remain in silence for long. Hermione placed a bet with herself on which one would crack first based on the amount of fidgeting happening. 

“Well, at least they keep things interesting. Never a dull moment with those two around.” 

Hermione mentally gave herself a pat on the back when the twin standing closest to her spoke. After spending so much time around Weasleys, she knew the family’s body language better than she ever cared to admit. 

The twin who had spoken continued, “She’s really not so bad as she’d like everyone to believe.” He paused before continuing, as if his next statement was more of an afterthought. “He’s not as much of an idiot as he’d like everyone to believe either. Just has a very large and imposing chip on his shoulder.”

Hermione smiled, remembering how Molly used to do the exact same thing. She somehow always tried to see the best in everyone. Apparently, it was a family trait. 

Shaking her head to rid herself of those bittersweet memories, she stepped forward, offering the twin her hand in greeting. A small voice in the back of her mind, that sounded suspiciously like her mother, reminded her it was rude not to introduce oneself. 

“We haven’t been introduced. Hermione Granger.”

The twin shook her hand with a smile. “Gideon Prewett. This less handsome devil behind me is my little brother, Fabian.” Fabian rolled his eyes so hard Hermione wondered if he had given himself a headache, but he refrained from commenting, silently offering her his hand in greeting as well. 

The awkward silence filled the room once again and Hermione had to consciously restrain herself from fidgeting. It seemed none of the Gryffindors were comfortable with these silences.

“Why don’t I give you a bit of a tour?” The first twin, Gideon, offered, gesturing back out the door. Hermione agreed eagerly. After being on the run for so long, lying about for any length of time left her feeling uneasy. She needed the movement to feel like she wasn’t a sitting duck, even if it was just walking from one room to the next. 

Everyone exited the room, following behind the Prewett twins. Hermione only listened to the narrative with half an ear while she subconsciously catalogued everything. Doors, windows, the people moving around her, everything was filed away for later use should the need for a quick escape ever arise. Bringing her focus back to the current conversation, she realized they had entered the kitchen. There were more Order members here, seated around the scrubbed wooden table. If she had to pick one word to describe the room, it would be  _ homey _ . It was brightly lit, a huge window taking up most of one wall with a cushioned seat - perfect for curling up with a mug of hot chocolate and a good book. The cheery yellow walls were accented by splashes of red and blue. The cupboards and counters were the same dark, thick wood as the table. Definitely homey. 

She allowed herself to be steered towards the table and was introduced to the women sitting there, Dorcas Meadows and Marlene McKinnon, both whom Hermione remembered had died long before her own induction into the Order. 

“How are you feeling, Hermione?” The woman on the right, Dorcas, asked. 

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Hermione hated making a fuss. It always made her uncomfortable, and she was never exactly sure what was supposed to be socially acceptable to say in response. 

Remus, who seemed to sense her discomfort, answered her unasked question. “Dorcas is the Order’s healer. Well, trained healer, we have a few members who fancy themselves as being just as capable in a pinch.” He gave her a wink and she was sure she knew exactly who that would be.

Dorcas and Marlene laughed, obviously catching his hint as well. There must be some interesting stories behind the gesture. As the laughter died down, conversation flowed easily. Hermione listened more than participated, but it was still nice - a reminder that all hope was not lost.

Listening to the conversations happening around her, Hermione didn’t notice the passage of time until she found a sandwich being placed in front of her. Looking up, she found one of the Prewetts. She still wasn’t sure how to tell them apart yet but she was determined to find a way. There had been a trick with Fred and George; she was sure these two were no different. 

“Healer’s order.” He grinned at her, seeing she was about to protest, but knowing she couldn’t when said healer was sitting across from her, watching the exchange. Instead of kicking up a fuss, Hermione took a massive bite, causing her cheeks to bulge. She looked back up at the twin and raised an eyebrow at him, asking if he was happy now that she had taken a bite. He barked a laugh, patted her head the way you would a well behaved dog, and exited the kitchen, still shaking his head. 

Upon finishing her sandwich, Hermione realized she was absolutely exhausted. It had been an exciting day and she was still healing from massive blood loss. She excused herself from the conversation, waving off all offers to walk her back to her room. She was tired, not an invalid. After placing her plate in the sink, she headed back upstairs. Having mapped the route out in her mind on the way down, she had no problem finding her way back. 

As she stepped onto the landing of the floor her room was located on, she noticed immediately the figure sitting on the floor. Cautiously walking forward, she noticed it was one of the twins. He was sitting against the wall beside one of the doors, legs stretched out in front of him. Staring into space, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything in particular. He turned his head towards her as she drew closer, his eyes losing the glassy, unfocused look. When he seemed to finally realize who it was, he smiled at her in greeting as she stopped and leaned her back against the opposite wall. 

“When she’s ready, she’ll come out and talk about it,” he said in answer to the unspoken question. There was no need to clarify who “she” was.

She quirked a brow at him. “You seem awfully sure about that for someone who just met her.”

He gave a lazy shrug in response. “Being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, I know a lot of people just like her. Closed off and outwardly cold. The trick is to wait them out. If they know you aren’t going anywhere, they’ll come to you when they are ready. Besides, she could use all the friends she can get in this place.” 

Hermione nodded in agreement. He wasn’t wrong in his assessment of those she had once thought cold and calculating. 

“Well, then it seems like she’s in good hands here...” She let the end of her sentence trail off expectantly as she waited for him to supply his name. 

He grinned broadly at that. “Gideon, love.”

“Right, Gideon.” Hermione took quick stock of his face, taking in every detail. There was a small scar in his left eyebrow, just at the end so it was barely visible, but there none the less, and she would bet Fabian didn’t. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, goodnight.”

“G’night, Granger,” he replied as he waved her off. She pushed herself back upright before continuing on to her room a few doors down. Closing the door softly behind her, Hermione allowed herself to fall bonelessly onto the bed, pulling the covers up around herself so only the top half of her head was visible before she drifted off into an easy sleep. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Pansy really hated waking up to the feeling of crusty eyelashes, puffy skin, and dried salt on her face. She knew she was not one of those lucky people who still managed to look attractive after bawling their eyes out. She could only imagine what her face looked like mixed with bed head and the usual grungy feeling of waking up. Stifling a yawn, she absently reached for her wand, intending to cast a  _ tempus _ . The feeling of the empty bedside table was a harsh reminder of her circumstances. No wand, lost in time, Order of the Phoenix, Hermione Granger as her only ally.  _ Right _ . Pansy finally cracked an eye open and looked towards the window since she had no other way of telling what time it was. If she was going to stay, she would need to fix that, or better yet, get her wand back from that idiot, Black. She had no doubts he was the one holding on to it. He had been one of the two people who brought her in, after all, and she doubted even Gideon Prewett could charm him into giving it up without a fight. 

Deciding it was light enough outside to warrant some breakfast, Pansy finally stood, abandoning the warmth of her bed. Trying to stretch and shiver at the same time, she noticed a jumper, a pair of flannel pajama pants, and a t-shirt draped across the back of her chair. The clothes obviously belonged to a man, judging by the size alone, but she was desperate enough to wear something she hadn’t just slept in. She had to roll the bottoms of the pants, and pull the drawstring in a ridiculous amount, but everything was warm and comfy so she had no complaints. Far more practical than the silks and lace her mother had always insisted a lady should wear. Pansy snorted in a most unlady like fashion at the thought of her mother. Oh yes, silks and lace were for ladies, but it was perfectly acceptable to slit someone’s throat in the drawing room should they be an inconvenience. She could honestly say she was more than happy to be rid of the ruthless and cold woman forever. The only person she could think of who would be less suited for motherhood would be Bellatrix, the crazy bitch, herself. 

Once dressed, Pansy made for the door, her hand hovering over the handle, suddenly unsure. Her rumbling stomach soon made her decision for her as it let out an audible growl. Huffing wryly to herself she turned the handle and was pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. A part of her had been expecting Black to have locked the door behind her and taken up guard duty himself, since he obviously thought everyone else was losing their minds to let her wander freely. 

Stepping into the hallway, she was suddenly assaulted by the delightful smells that could only mean breakfast would be served shortly. Pansy inhaled deeply, she couldn’t really remember the last time she actually looked forward to breakfast, even though it had been her favourite meal as a child. It had been the only meal her mother wouldn’t reprimand her for “eating a most unbecoming amount, she was a lady after all, not a starving wretch, nor a hog that needed fattening up.”She very much doubted anyone in the Order would be reminding her to think of her figure as she ate. With those happy thoughts she hurried to find the source of those wonderful smells. 

She hadn’t seen anybody else on her way to the kitchen, and so was slightly surprised to find three people already in the room. A woman with sandy, shoulder length hair was standing in front of the stove, clearly the guilty one for how delicious the kitchen smelled. At the table sat a woman with the most gorgeous red hair she had ever seen. She was whispering to the man next to her, a man with ridiculously messy black hair and glasses…

“Potter?”

At her question, the quiet conversation died as all the occupants turned to look at her. Instead of the suspicion and outright hostility she was used to, the woman at the stove positively beamed when she saw Pansy standing in the doorway. She put down her spatula and came over to Pansy, throwing her arms around her. Pansy could honestly say she had never been more surprised in her life. The entire situation had just become very surreal. Here she was at Order headquarters, wearing mens pajamas, being hugged by a complete stranger. Her face must have shown her complete shock, because there was definitely snickering coming from the direction of the table. Not that she could actually see in that direction anymore, thanks to this obviously crazy person who still hadn’t released her. 

Clearing her throat and giving the stranger an awkward pat on the back, Pansy tried to disentangle herself. The woman let go immediately and stepped back once she felt Pansy shifting away. 

“Oh, sorry love, I guess you wouldn’t know me, last time I saw you, you were unconscious. I’m Dorcas Meadows, the only  _ official _ healer for the Order.” As she stressed the word “official”, Dorcas had shifted her gaze to the occupants at the table, causing the redhead to lose complete control of her sniggers and burst out laughing. The man next to her looked like he wasn’t sure if he was proud or embarrassed by whatever story went along with the unsaid implication. 

“You know, everything turned out just fine in the end. Sirius’ voice wasn’t stuck that way for very long, and my eyelashes eventually stopped growing. Look,” he pointed at his face and batting his eyelashes, “completely normal now. I don’t know why everyone keeps bringing it up like it was an epic failure or someone died. Everyone lived, and the side effects faded eventually.” Pansy found it slightly disturbing that a man his age could actually look kind of adorable instead of ridiculous as he pouted. 

“Key word is  _ eventually _ , James. If you idiots had just come to me in the first place, you wouldn’t have needed to trim your eyelashes for a month, and Lily wouldn’t have made you sleep on the couch,” Dorcas waved her hand in dismissal, “anyway, ignore that idiot. Are you hungry? I’m just about finished with breakfast. Seems the only time anybody actually makes anything edible around here is when Remus, Lily or myself are here to make it for them. Merlin only knows what they eat when none of us is around.” She rolled her eyes and headed back to the stove. 

“Pickles and sandwiches, Dorcas. They live off pickles and sandwiches when we aren’t around.” The redhead seemed to finally have regained control of herself. Pansy assumed this must be Lily then. Now that she got a good look at the two sitting together at the table it was rather obvious who they were. She could pick out all the details between the two that would one day come together and make Harry Potter. 

Pansy was brought out of her thoughts by Dorcas, as the woman placed a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon on the table, gesturing for her to sit. As breakfast had been the entire point of leaving her room this morning, she happily plopped down into the offered seat. Of course she couldn’t just be left alone to enjoy her pancakes in peace. After she had taken a few bites, the two seated across from her continued their conversation. Whispering.  _ Angrily. _ Pansy rolled her eyes. Was it going to be like this whenever she was in the company of others? It was too early to care what they really thought of her right now, anyway, there was breakfast in front of her and it was meant to be savoured. 

When Pansy only had a few bites left James suddenly stood from his side of the table, roughly pushing his chair back with enough force it clattered to the floor. Pansy watched dispassionately as he stomped from the room. Feeling eyes on her, she turned to face Lily, who was watching her with what appeared to be pity. Ugh,  _ pity _ . Seeing the look directed at her, Pansy felt the need to get away from the redhead as quickly as possible. She didn’t need or want anyone’s pity. She wasn’t a charity case. 

Finishing her last bite, she stood quickly to take her used dishes to the sink, hoping desperately the redhead would just let her leave without saying anything. Nope, she wasn’t that lucky. She was only a few steps short of the door when Lily spoke up behind her.

“You’ll have to excuse James. He and Sirius can be rather short sighted. Mixed with their Gryffindor passion it tends to run a bit rampant sometimes. They make snap decisions without being given all the information, and then refuse to listen to anything or anyone that could change their minds.” There was a pause, Pansy heard Lily sigh, “I just wanted you to know though, not everyone feels that way. There’s a few of us that are willing to give you a chance.”

Pansy closed her eyes, head tilted back, and huffed. She didn’t want this conversation. She didn’t want  _ any _ conversation. Why couldn’t everyone just leave well enough alone? She wasn’t hurting anybody, she wasn’t going to go on a bloody rampage and murder everyone in a berserker rage. She didn’t want their pity and platitudes. They didn’t need to make excuses for each other, because she really couldn’t care less. She was used to always having someone around who was more than willing to remind her of all her shortcomings. It only peeved her further that she was being given a chance by a few. She had nothing to prove to these people. They could all take a long walk off a high cliff for all she cared.

Placing her hand on the doorframe, without turning around, Pansy replied, “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not particularly in the mood to prove myself worthy to anyone. This was my only means of escape and I took it. I’m not going to beg for anyone’s approval. I’m sure you have far more important things to do right now than take pity on the Death Eater. Don’t let me keep you.”

The silence that followed gave Pansy a perverse sense of satisfaction. This Gryffindor darling wasn’t used to her charity being shoved back in her face it would seem. She probably was expecting gratitude or some other tedious display of emotion.

When she was sure Lily wasn’t going to reply, Pansy finally left the kitchen, hoping to find somewhere to lie low without others gawking or trying to make awkward small talk, or reminding her of her Death Eater status. She was more aware of that fact than anybody could possibly know. She was the one with a madman’s mark branded into her flesh. It was rather hard to ignore. Shaking her head, Pansy headed back up the stairs, taking two at a time, hoping to leave the ginger and her  _ pity _ far behind.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Pansy had never dealt with boredom well. It made her fidgety and angsty. It always left her feeling like she was just asking the universe for something bad to happen because if she was bored she obviously didn’t have enough to keep her busy. Boredom was an open invitation for drama and or chaos in her opinion and sitting here at phoenix HQ with a bunch of self righteous Gryffindor’s with nothing to keep herself occupied was the equivalent of sitting on a box of muggle explosives and hoping you wouldn’t get caught in the explosion. It had been days since the argument with Black and she had only left her room for food and bathroom runs since. Though Prewett tried to make it clear she wasn't a prisoner, she knew she wasn’t welcome in the rest of the house either.

She was in the middle making bets with herself on who would be the one to break the uncomfortable calm that permeated the house when a light knock sounded at her door. At headquarters there was bound to be something exciting sooner or later. Pansy debated if it was really worth getting up to answer but decided she was too curious not too. Only a few people would bother to knock instead of just barging in and she didn’t want to ostracize any potential allies in this mess. 

Opening the door she was slightly surprised to see Granger standing on the other side. She thought for sure the witch would be bed ridden for a few more days at least. But she supposed that Gryffindor stubbornness wouldn’t let her lie around forever. Particularly  _ this _ Gryffindor. When Granger set her mind to something she was like a rabid dog with a bone and nobody could dissuade her from whatever she put her mind to. Her misguided crusade to  _ save _ the house elves being a prime example. 

Trying not to show any concern for Granger’s wellbeing, Pansy propped her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms in a pose her mother would have referred to as being a “despot.” She took private joy in doing the little things that would surely make her mother’s nose turn up in horror. Life was about enjoying the little things after all. 

“Well Granger, don’t you look chipper. What can I possibly do for you this fine morning.” Her statement was offset by a crash of thunder. It had been storming for the last two days and the dreary weather was having a decidedly negative effect on everyone. Just this morning she heard a particular werewolf let loose a colourful string of curses she never would have suspected the charming, quiet man of knowing. Her opinion of the man only went up after that. 

Granger’s eyebrows shot up at her casual attitude but visibly shook off her surprise. “Um, I’m good. Still sore and I tire too easily, but if I stay in that room for one more minute I may lose what’s left of my mind.” Giving a most unlady like snort and small nod of understanding Pansy backed away and swung the door further open allowing Granger to enter.

“Welcome to my humble abode. I’m sure the change of scenery will really do you some good. You’re looking a bit peaky.” Pansy gestured widely with her arm so Granger could take in the glory that was her room/prison. Granger looked around in surprise at the bareness of the room. While hers was obviously made for comfort, this room was clearly for function having only basic necessities. 

“Cozy,” was all Granger said, not wanting to be rude, but it was obviously she had picked up on the disparity in their situations. Pansy gave a non-committal hum, not wanting, nor needing Granger’s pity. She wasn’t a project. 

Once they were both settled on opposite ends of her bed Granger cleared her throat, a determined look on her face. Pansy internally sighed. So this wasn’t going to be a quick conversation as she had hoped. She may be stuck in the past with the swot but that didn’t mean they were suddenly bosom buddies attached at the hip and Pansy had always preferred her own company to most others. 

“I think we should discuss what we can safely share with the Order and what we should keep to ourselves for now. Just because our presence here has already changed things, doesn’t mean we should show all our cards just yet or make people suspicious of each other unnecessarily.”  _ Ah yes.  _ Granger was talking about Pettigrew. She had seen the rat-man just the previous day when she had ventured out for some sustenance. Though he looked almost like a completely different person she still couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine at the sight of him. Dark magic had twisted the man so much by the time she knew him, he was practically a different person. There was no love lost between her and the coward but she could understand not wanting to destroy his friendships and future without due cause. If they could change his fate they would be saving dozens of lives in the process and if they told anybody what his actions would cost in the future, the nest of Phoenix Gryffindors would most certainly cast him out, undoubtedly ensuring his betrayal. She hated to agree with the brunette but Granger had an excellent point. Even if Pansy would never outright admit to it.

“It’s not like anybody would  _ actually _ believe us anyways. Some things about the future are so ridiculous I wouldn’t even believe them if I hadn’t just lived through it. Have you gotten a look at Pettigrew here yet? He looks like he would be incapable of causing harm even if he had wanted to.” Granger gave a hum of agreement and looked pensive. The blond boy looked more likely to trip over his own feet than to even be able to swat a fly successfully. 

“Right, what else should we keep off the table for now?” And Granger was back on track. Just from watching the other girl work in the library Pansy knew how much the Gryffindor loved working from lists. And making them. And checking things off. The girl loved her lists! 

Heaving a sigh, Pansy threw her arms in the arm before flopping onto her back across the bed, “Honestly, there is far too much to make sure we don’t miss anything. I think we should just have some rules instead. Things like, ‘Don’t discuss how people die, ‘most are very disturbing, ‘Don’t go around telling people their futures’ in general I think as  _ some _ people may not like the idea of Black spending twelve years in Azkaban even though he was innocent. Things like that. Let’s just stick to pertinent information as we go along, though I do think we should keep Lord No-Nose’ little weakness between as few people as possible and only those you can be  _ absolutely _ sure can keep the information one-hundred percent safe. If they aren’t accomplished in Occclumency they don’t make the cut. This is too important to worry about people’s feelings being hurt because they were excluded from the top secret secret.”

Granger nodded along as Pansy spoke, though she could tell the other girl was slightly disappointed they weren’t going to be making any lists. She knew first hand how much it grated Granger to follow a general outline and the memory of her badgering their professors for more specific instructions on certain essays made the Slytherin inwardly smirk. She missed those simple days. 

Granger pushed off the bed and strode to the door, “Right, well I suppose we best find ourselves a crotchety Auror and a manipulative Headmaster. Much as I hate to admit it, we will need Dumbledore if we want to be successful, but like you said, bare minimum. I refuse to be a pawn in his games this time around.” 

Pansy snorted and nodded as she followed her only ally from the future out the door. She would let Granger do most of the talking unless she felt she was oversharing, only then would she participate in the conversation. Granger did tend to ramble when she was nervous, but she also had such well organized thoughts it would probably all sound more believable coming from her anyway, aside from the fact nobody would want to listen to what the “Death Eater scum” had to say. Pulling her shoulders back, head held high, Pansy prepared herself for what she knew would be a gruelling and uncomfortable conversation. 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Upon entering the library Pansy knew they had made a mistake. She knew she and Granger should have discussed this more in-depth. Now it was too late. She knew with every fibre of her being that bloody Mad-Eye wouldn’t believe she wasn’t a spy without unquestionable proof and unfortunately there were only a handful of ways to ensure someone  _ literally _ couldn’t lie and none of those options were pleasant in the least. 

The genial, grandfatherly look Dumbledore tried to emanate gave Pansy the creeps. She had never been a fan of the man to begin with, her parents having instilled a distrust of anybody who pretended to do things only out of the goodness of their hearts with no foreseeable rewards.The Headmaster was a master manipulator when it came to cashing in on those favours he claimed not to want or need. He twisted the truth and people's emotions enough to make them believe it was their idea to begin with and leave the dirty sneak still smelling like a rose. 

Pansy had never been able to abide such behaviour; something the other houses at Hogwarts had always seemed to misunderstand. There was a difference between being cunning and being sneaky and she had no doubts whatsoever what side of that line dear old Dumbles fell on. 

As the two time travellers entered the room Dumbledore and Moody both rose to their feet; Dumbledore with his hands spread in a welcoming fashion, Moody with his hands clasped behind his back, feet spread shoulder width apart. Everything about the scarred man screamed  _ discipline _ . Between the two wizards standing before her, there was no question which she would prefer to question her. Dumbledore would seek out all her darkest secrets, wishes, and fears and use that information against her in the future. While Moody would in no way be gentle, she knew he at least would only go looking for information pertaining to her allegiances and willingness to help the Order. 

“Come in my dears, why don’t we begin with a spot of tea, hm?” Dumbledore hadn’t waited for a reply before he began pouring everyone a cup. Pansy would have objected if Granger hadn’t given her a look before taking her seat and accepting her cup from the Headmaster. Rolling her eyes Pansy felt it would be in her best interests to go along with things for now. No use getting under people's skin before they at least knew for certain she wasn’t going to kill them all in their beds. 

The instant after her first sip Pansy knew something was wrong. Though it was a flavourless and odourless potion, the immediate effects of Veriteserum were unmistakeble. Her body was filled with a light, floaty feeling, her mind blissfully blank. All previous worries about what they should and shouldn’t share seemed inconsequential now. She vaguely remembered the items they had agreed  _ not _ to share, but she couldn’t recall why it was such a big deal anymore. 

She turned her head and saw Granger similarly affected by the potion if the contented grin on her face was any indication. While she was consumed with the carefree feeling caused by the drugged tea, Pansy couldn’t deny the small voice in the back of her mind screaming that they were in serious trouble.

\------------------

The questioning went on for hours. It was obvious Moody was no slouch when it came to interrogation. Any time she felt the potions effects begin to wear off he made sure the girls took another drink from their laced tea cups making sure they were under the potions influence for the entire conversation. 

Pansy wasn’t sure how long they had actually been sequestered away but it was obvious a significant amount of time had passed because the sky outside the windows was completely dark and her throat was dry and scratchy from so much talking. Her head was pounding from the continuous drugging and had to squeeze her eyes shut against the harsh light emanating from the now lit lamps around the room. 

Hearing a groan from beside her Pansy relieved Hermione must be feeling about the same as she did though she refused to open her eyes yet to find out. As she rubbed her throbbing temples Dumbledore began to speak, “Well, it seems we have gone over everything Auror Moody and myself thought pertinent and I am pleased to say that we believe your story and in your case Miss Parkinson we accept your presence here at Order Headquarters.” 

_ How magnanimous of him _ . After he had spent who knew how many hours drilling them and ferriting out every last bit of information he wanted. Pansy finally peaked her eyes open enough to glare at the old wizard as he sat there looking the perfect picture of congeniality. At least the crazy Auror was up front about his methods and thoughts, with Dumbledore you could never be quite sure what was going through his mind. 

“So glad we could convince you after you completely violated our privacy,” Pansy spat. Her anger only grew when the Headmaster merely offered her a condescending smile. 

“Unfortunately my dear, we cannot afford privacy during these troubling times. There is too great a risk to allow even the smallest of errors on our part, and that includes sometimes using less than ethical methods. It is all for the greater good after all.”

To say she was surprised by the snarl that emanated from Hermione would be an understatement. If she hadn’t known better she would have thought the girl was completely feral. She was even more shocked to watch as the tiny witch leapt to her feet and began to stalk towards the Headmaster and auror venom dripping from every word that came from her mouth.

“Don’t you dare preach to me about the “greater good” Dumbledore. Don’t you dare! I have literally watched everyone I have ever loved or cared about be tortured or ripped apart and murdered in front of my eyes all in the name of your great good. Tell me, what is the point of sacrifice for the  _ greater good _ when there’s nobody left alive at the end?” With those words Hermione turned on her heel and left the library not caring if they were dismissed. 

Not wanting to be left alone with the pair, Pansy leapt to her feet and followed the Gryffindor witch, but lost sight of her on the stairs that had bizarrely become packed with Order members. She couldn’t help but be caught in the tide of people flowing towards the kitchen and so decided it wasn’t worth the effort to fight her way back to her room. 

Upon entering the kitchen she immediately claimed an empty seat at the table as to avoid being pushed about any further without knowing what was going on. From the snippets of rushed conversation that she could pick out it sounded like they were headed out because there had been an attack on another member’s home. 

Glancing at the clock in the corner told her it was already one-thirty in the morning and her stomach squirmed when she thought of some family being caught unaware while they slept. She had to force back the images that flashed in her mind from revels past to avoid a complete meltdown in front of what she would guess was the majority of the Order. She rested her head on her folded arms and took deep breaths with her eyes squeezed shut, willing herself to think of  _ anything _ else. 

By the time she felt she had herself back under control she realized the kitchen had gone completely silent. Looking around it became obvious as to why. She was the only person left in the room. It seemed while she was lost in own head everyone else had cleared out. She was grateful no one had tried to talk to her while she sorted out her thoughts. She was beyond exhausted from being drugged all afternoon as well so the odds she would have snapped at anyone that approached her were pretty high.

There was a small part of her though that was slightly hurt that nobody was bothered enough by her obvious distress to think of checking on her. Well, what did she expect really? After all, she was still just the Death Eater to most, if not all of these people. As much as she hated what had happened in the library she couldn’t deny it would be effective in shutting down the nay-sayers when her allegiance was questioned. While she hated the method she couldn’t deny it would bring more positive results than if she had merely sat through a quick Q&A. 

Sighing heavily Pansy decided there was no point in staying in the kitchen. Who knew how long everyone would be gone for. She doubted very much if most of them would be happy to see her there anyway after having just dealt with a bunch Death Eaters. Hauling herself to her feet she decided the best place for her would be her bed. Hopefully she could get a few more answers, and a few less glares, in the morning. Well, the later morning when people were actually meant to be conscious. 

Upon entering her room a wave of despair crashed over her. While she had become something of a professional at pushing all of her emotions behind her occulmency walls over the years, she was just too tired to fight against the knowledge that she was utterly alone here. Her only ally was a half starved,  _ slightly manic _ Gryffindor who had up until recently hated her with every fibre of her tiny being. Her prospects were decidedly bleak. 

Allowing her body to flop bonelessly onto the bed Pansy snuggled into her pillow praying for just a few hours of sleep that weren’t plagued by nightmares, though she wasn’t counting on it after having so many unpleasant memories try to force their way to the forefront of her mind. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

The days that followed tension continued to run high in the house. While they had been successful in saving the family that had been attacked they were all shaken by how completely they had been blindsided by it. Nobody wanted to imagine what they would have seen if they had been a few minutes later. There was no doubt in anybody’s mind they would have been burying bodies instead of finding a family a new home. 

Thanks to being dosed with Veriteserum and interviewed by Dumbledore and Moody, Black had no choice but to return her wand to her. While the git may not like it, nobody was willing to argue with the Headmaster when he announced that he had complete trust in her allegiance and had gathered significant proof to back up his belief in her. 

Of course he left out the details of dosing the time travelers without their knowledge, but she was willing to let it slide if it meant finally having her wand returned to her. After living so long in constant fear it had made her twitchy not having it with her. With no way to defend herself from an unexpected attack she had kept herself mostly to her room only coming out for the restroom or meals. 

She had claimed a seat in the back corner of the kitchen as hers. It kept her back to the wall while being able to watch the other members of the Order going about their business and how they interacted with one another. She came to learn who may hold a grudge against who, who didn’t like someone, who had obviously slept together and were now uncomfortable, and who people reported to or look to for answers. 

Most of the Order left her alone when she came out for meals. Not exactly happy with her presence, but trusted in Dumbledore enough not to kick up a fuss at her joining them. A few members did make a concerted effort to talk to her whenever they were present. With how the Prewett twins treated her you would have thought they had been friends for ages instead of mild acquaintances of a few weeks. Dorcas always had a friendly smile for her and would ask how she was doing, though Pansy wasn’t sure if this had more to do with her being a healer or if she genuinely cared. Black only made two appearances that she noticed and each time he was only in the kitchen long enough to grab a sandwich and some tea. 

Hermione would join her occasionally but Pansy heard that she had been roped into research with Lupin in the library. The pair of swots coming in to gather sustenance and then disappearing into their books again. Pansy was sure she knew what they were researching but they never spoke about it at the table for fear of the wrong person overhearing. 

In contrast to his friends' sparse appearances, Pettigrew was a near constant presence. Pansy always made an effort not even to make eye contact with the man. He may not be a murderous traitour yet, she had no idea when his allegiances started to shift and so she couldn’t be certain if was already passing along information or not. The man gave her the creeps while simultaneously disgusting her. His continued presence made her wonder what exactly Dumbledore was playing at. Naming any traitors to the Order had been one of the focuses of the questioning in the library so she knew Pettigrew’s cover was blown and yet he was still wandering freely through Headquarters. 

Two weeks after the successful mission to stop the Death Eaters, Pansy found herself idly stirring her porridge staring blankly at the spoon and ignoring the conversations going on around her. She hadn’t got much sleep the night before due to a particularly vicious nightmare and was already contemplating crawling back into her bed after breakfast. It took her an extra minute to even realize someone had sat down across from her. Someone that was expecting her attention. 

Looking up from her breakfast Pansy found herself looking into the brilliant green eyes that had featured in so many of her nightmares. Tearing her gaze away quickly she shoveled a spoonful into her mouth a clear indication that the other witch would have to speak first. The green eyes looked completely wrong on the unfamiliar face though she was very familiar with the irritation she saw there when the redhead realized she wasn’t going to greet her. 

After clearing her throat delicately,  _ her mother would have been so proud of that sound,  _ Lily found her voice. 

“My husband has something he would like to say to you, Parkinson.” Was she serious? Here was a full grown man with his wife dragging him around and forcing apologies from him like an errant child. Pansy barely managed to contain her snort. If she choked in front of these people she wasn’t really sure any of them would even bother to stop her untimely demise and she refused to be killed off by breakfast mush. Instead she continued eating in silence, a raised eyebrow the only indication she was even listening. 

“I apologize if my storming out offended you, Parkinson. It was rude of me to make assumptions as to your character without first hearing the facts.” Ah, yes. The facts being Dumbledore told them all to embrace the Death Eater among them. Though she couldn’t believe what was unfolding before her, she wouldn’t deny it was extremely entertaining. It was immediately obvious who rode the back of the broomstick in that relationship. 

The silence that followed his “apology” was stifling at their end of the table. Pansy was enjoying it immensely. It had been such a long time since she had held the cards. It felt bloody  _ fantastic _ to be in control of something. Even if it was this poor excuse of an apology. She surreptitiously watched the couple across from her as she continued with her breakfast. 

She watched Potter give lady Potter a look of annoyance while lady Potter tried to look consoling. Potter jerked his head in the direction of the door while lady Potter shook her head before nodding in her direction. By the time she had scooped up the last bite th Potter’s were both obviously fidgeting. Pushing her bowl away Pansy leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and finally looked up at the uncomfortable couple. 

“Well, thank you for that heartfelt apology. I could tell how deeply you meant it when your wife had to drag it out of you like an errant child. Does she cut up your food for you as well so her special boy doesn’t take bites that are too big?” She knew she was being a bitch but she really couldn’t resist digging at them a little bit. Sometimes it was like her tongue had a mind of its own before her brain could catch up. “This has been fun, but I really must be going, lots to do today you see. Walls to stare at, books to thumb through. I’m sure you understand.” 

She pushed out her chair and stood, allowing a triumphant smile to spread across her face as she walked away. The indignant gasp behind her was just the cherry on top. 

“Now hold on a moment! Is that really all you have to say to us? Can you really afford to go offending the people who took you in? It’s not like you have a lot of options here, Parkisnon. We could just as easily throw you back into that snake pit you crawled out of.”

The smile slowly disappeared as she turned to face the now standing man. The rest of the kitchen had fallen silent and it was obvious everyone was now watching the drama unfold. She knew he was right, she  _ couldn’t _ afford to be making enemies of her precarious allies. Admitting that she was wrong in front of everyone caused a sickening clench in her stomach. She preferred to buy expensive gifts to let others know she was sorry. 

She peaked a look at the redhead who had remained sitting. Judging from the unattractive angry splotches now appearing on her face and the righteous indignation flashing in her eyes it would appear the lady Potter agreed with her husband. It was obvious the other woman wasn’t used to people being prickly with her. She was probably a teacher’s pet in school and everyone else’s darling girl This was probably how Granger would have turned out if she had cared enough what other people thought of her. The thought caused a shudder to run up her spine. She had found Granger insufferable enough during their days at Hogwarts, she would have been downright unbearable if she had been sickeningly sweet to everyone as well. Small mercies. 

Squaring her shoulder’s Pansy brought her attention back to the Potter standing before her and the hazel eyes that were so out of place on that face. “You’re right, I can’t afford to make enemies of the Order,” Potter smirked at her admission causing her to bristle and her eyes narrowed. “Let’s get one thing straight, I am not some simpering Gryffindor. If that is your idea of an apology you can shove it back up your arse. I don’t care if you like me or even want me here. My being here isn’t going to change because you threw a fit. I came here to help you avoid the future I escaped from. That is the  _ only _ reason I am here, so you may not like that or me, but I am here to stay.” 

Feeling that she had said what she needed to on the subject she turned sharply to retreat from the oppressive feeling in the kitchen. She wasn’t able to pass through the doorway as she had expected. Instead she bumped into someone standing behind her. Someone wearing vibrant purple robes with gold twinkling stars strewn across them. Oh good, because her morning hadn’t already been flushed down the toilet, Dumbeldore was here.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

The Headmaster cast a quick look around the kitchen taking inventory of everyone present. The twinkle in his eye immediately put Pansy on edge. Well, more than she already was. Needing to put more space between herself and the wizard she headed to the sink to get a glass of water. It wasn’t a retreat, it was a tactical maneuver into a more advantageous position that’s all. 

The water filling her glass joined the sounds of shuffling from the other occupants of the room. Turning to lean against the sink and taking a sip Pansy noticed how everyone had taken a seat along the table waiting for the Headmaster to command his loyal minions. Black must have entered behind Dumbledore while her back was turned as he was now counted among those at the table. It was moments like this that really struck home how much of an outside she really was. 

“Well, it looks like everyone is here that I needed to speak with so why don’t we get down to business, hm?” Though it was posed as a question there was no question they were all going to listen to whatever he had to say with rapt attention. “We have gathered some information that it is essential we verify its authenticity. A small group from the Order will be dispatched to survey and report back if there is any truth to be had from the intel.”

“Sorry Death Eater, looks like you better clear out. Important Order business, classified information that we can’t have you leaking to your friends. You understand I’m sure.” The comment of course came from Black who was openly eyeing her with displeasure. 

The blonde beside him, McKinnon if she remembered right, made a shooing motion with her hand, “Off you go then. Best head back to your room now. Would be a pity if anyone got the wrong idea and thought you were trying to gather information and decided it would be best to fire first and ask questions later.” Her tone suggested she would actually enjoy it immensely if that were to happen. 

Pansy snorted and noticed a similar look on the faces of the majority of the people gathered. She wondered if it was only a matter of time before someone decided to take matters into their own hands. Looks like she would be spending more time with Granger and Lupin in the library. Nobody could accuse her of suspicious behaviour if she was literally lying on a couch bored out of her mind listening to those two go on and on she slowly succumbed to madness. But just to prove she didn’t take orders from them Pansy headed to the fridge to grab something,  _ anything,  _ to show how unbothered she was by their disdain.

“Actually, Miss Parkinson’s presence is also required as she will be involved in the mission.” The silence that followed Dumbledore’s statement was so oppressive Pansy could literally feel it pressing against her skin. It didn’t take long for his words to sink in and many of the people seated at the table were no longer occupying their chairs, arguing loudly with Black and McKinnon leading the charge. 

Dumbledore held up a hand and immediately the cacophony stopped. It was obvious Black had more he wished to say on the topic but seven years of being one of his students followed by their time in the Order had instilled in him a need to obey the Headmaster. 

Once everyone had regained their seats Dumbledore continued, “While I understand some of you may have strong feelings about Miss Parkinson’s suitability for this mission,”  _ understatement of the year,  _ “She is uniquely qualified for this particular surveillance mission.” 

The unhappy expressions had turned to outright hostile glares at this point. All of them directed her way like it was somehow her fault that she was being included. Refusing to show that their anger towards her bothered her she kept her eyes locked on the old man standing at the head of the table. The only thing that truly set her apart from everyone else there was her time as a Death Eater. Thinking about what he could possibly want with her on this mission made her stomach squirm uncomfortably. 

“We need more information on what is happening at Chateau Lestrange. Miss Parkinson is the only member of the Order with enough background information to make sure our team doesn’t fall into any traps set about the property and avoid detection. Madam Lestrange is in possession of something we need in order to defeat Lord Voldemort.This is merely the first step in obtaining the object.” 

Pansy nearly dropped her glass at the realization of what he was referring to.  _ They were going after a Horcrux. _ She frantically scanned the kitchen and was able to relax slightly when she noticed that Pettigrew wasn’t present for once. This was  _ not _ the mission to be testing his loyalties so they could prove his treachery to everyone else. She knew it would have to happen eventually as the rest of the Order would never believe that spineless little Peter Pettigrew would turn on them without undeniable proof. She could only hope that Dumbeldore wouldn’t sacrifice anyone for the sake of outing the traitor. 

She toned out the rest of the conversation as the weight of what they would be doing settled on her shoulders. Chateau Lestrange was  _ not _ someplace she ever wished to see again. Some of the darkest moments in her life had taken place within its walls. The Dark Lord may have stayed at Malfoy Manor for a time in the beginning but Bellatrix’ fanaticism appealed more to his tastes. He may have wanted to appear as a refined pureblood himself in the beginning but there was no denying his mind had completely deteriorated into madness not long after Potter’s death. By the time she and Granger fell back in time the depravity he and his favorite servant had descended into was horrifying to consider. 

Pansy physically shook herself free of the dark thoughts she was spiralling into. Nothing good would ever come of allowing herself to remember those moments. She would drive herself mad if she allowed those memories out from behind her occlumency walls. If she made it through this alive she was going to need some serious therapy. 

Tuning herself back into the conversation around her she noticed only a few members were still seated at the table. Black, Potter, Fabian and McKinnon were the only ones left, all aurors. While she should be thankful everyone on their mission would at least be trained in stealth she wasn’t so sure about the success of the mission when only one person on her team could be near her without sneering. 

There was no way Potter, Black or McKinnon would take direction from her. This mission was a disaster waiting to happen. She didn’t like how small the odds were of them getting out of there without detection. She may be the team member with the knowledge of the layout and the most insight into how the Lestrange’s thought (as much as anyone could given they were complete lunatics) she could already tell all of her suggestions were going to go unheeded. 

The satisfied expression on Dumbeldore’s face only added to her anxiety. He seemed completely unconcerned that he had set up the perfect recipe for a disaster. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to think of what other angle he could be playing. 

The Headmaster clapped his hands once, silencing the conversation happening around him. “I trust you all will use the time between now and your departure to prepare and familiarise yourselves with all pertinent information. I’ll leave you to discuss.” The bounce in his step as he turned and left solidified her suspicions that the old man had an ulterior motive to this insane plan. 

The only one to acknowledge her was Fabian as the others bent their heads together summoning parchment and ink to begin mapping out the Chateau and making notes of any important information they already had. Pansy sighed before setting the kettle to boil. She was going to need several very strong cups of tea if she was going to make it through this without hexing anybody. She was determined to kill them with kindness. If there was anything of value she had learned from her viper of a mother it was the power of taking others down with a smile on her face.

  
  



End file.
